


The Pureness of That Desire

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Series: Darts of Pleasure [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drunk Sex, First Time, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-16
Updated: 2010-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred remembers the very first time he and Arthur got together, with a closing reflection on the events from the beginning of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/143307">Amsterdam</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pureness of That Desire

When Arthur taught him to kiss like a girl, it turned Alfred on more than anything he could either remember or imagine. The words were as intimate as the physical kiss itself, and Alfred did everything Arthur said. Their breath touched even before their lips. When at last their mouths did touch, Alfred breathed into Arthur and inhaled Arthur with the next breath; and then Arthur's tongue was in Alfred's mouth and Alfred remembered to keep himself open and soft, and even when Arthur invited Alfred into his mouth, Alfred didn't forget to be soft, soft and open.

Then Arthur reached for himself and Alfred was so turned on by how aroused Arthur was that he couldn't stand it; couldn't stand at all. Sinking to his knees, he pushed Arthur's hand out of the way and took out his cock. After a few strokes, Alfred looked up to see if this was what Arthur wanted, if there was anything special he should do. Arthur's head was flung back with the arch of his body, so Alfred pressed a kiss to the cockhead, kept his lips there for a moment before he parted them to let the tip of his tongue rest on the tip of Arthur's cock, and then he gave the tiniest lick. Arthur's fingers slid through Alfred's hair to cup the back of his head, urging him forward. Alfred took Arthur in, feeling the cockhead glide along the roof of his mouth, flicking and swirling his tongue along the underside. He began to suck softly, wondering how far it would go, wondering if Arthur wanted him to do everything like a girl, if Arthur maybe even had a kink to dress him up like a girl.

Arthur's fingers tightened in Alfred's hair, pulling him back gently without pulling him off, his other hand nudging Alfred's chin up so their gazes met. "Hard. Suck hard," Arthur said. Alfred bent his head and took Arthur into his mouth again. "Please, Alfred, please, suck hard."

Listening to Arthur's litany, Alfred smiled around the cock. Arthur was using his name. He wasn't pretending Alfred was a girl or someone else; it was Alfred he really wanted. Arthur's thumb slid along one hollowed cheek, down to his chin, tilting Alfred's face up again. This time Arthur didn't say anything. He just pushed himself deeper into Alfred, deeper, until he came down Alfred's throat.

Alfred stayed on his knees after he finished swallowing. When Arthur withdrew, Alfred looked up at him. Arthur glanced away when their eyes met, but then looked back, unshed tears shimmering. "Why?" Arthur touched Alfred's face. "Why are you so beautiful?"

 _You're the one who's beautiful._ But Alfred couldn't say that because it was such a cliché, it would ruin what was going on. Anyhow, the look on Arthur's face made Alfred breathless; he didn't think he could speak even if he wanted to.

Alfred was so aroused he was starting to ache, so he slipped his hand under his clothes and began touching himself just to take the edge off. And then he realized Arthur was watching him. When their eyes met again, Arthur looked away quickly. Alfred closed his eyes so Arthur could look at him if he wanted. He started rocking as he stroked off—and then Arthur's fingers were around his arm, just above the wrist, pulling his hand away. "Don't," Arthur said. "Not like that." He slipped his own hand down Alfred's trousers, fingers curling around Alfred's cock.

They knelt together, Arthur stroking Alfred off, Alfred openmouthed, head fallen back, watching Arthur's face through half-lidded eyes. Arthur flinched when their gaze connected, so Alfred closed his eyes all the way. "Please don't stop," he whispered.

Arthur didn't stop, except to drag the zipper all the way down. He took Alfred out and pumped him hard until Alfred came, reaching out blindly to clutch at Arthur for support. Hand still on Alfred's cock, Arthur drew him close. "Come to bed with me, Alfred." Seduction; request. "Let me take you to bed."

Alfred led the way to the bedroom, undressed himself and Arthur. He kissed Arthur again just like Arthur taught him; Alfred kissed and caressed him until Arthur was hard again. "I have a condom," Arthur said. He fumbled with it, his fingers thick with drink, so Alfred took it from him. Tearing open the wrapper, Alfred carefully positioned the condom in his mouth. Arthur's brow quirked but he didn't ask, and then Alfred bent his head, holding Arthur's cock at the base and slowly unrolling the condom as he slid his mouth over the tip and down the shaft.

With a lopsided grin as he sat back, Alfred adjusted the condom and glanced up. Arthur blinked at him openmouthed, and Alfred decided not to wonder if any of the girls Arthur had been with had ever done that for him. Still smiling, he slicked up Arthur. Then he reached behind to lube and stretch himself. "How do you want me?"

"Hands and knees," Arthur said without hesitation.

Alfred got into position. When he felt Arthur behind him, Alfred reached back to guide him in; Arthur fit inside him so sweetly that Alfred sighed.

Arthur was still once he pushed in, hands resting lightly on Alfred's hips. Alfred stayed still, too, for as long as he could, and then he rocked back in encouragement. He couldn't stop once he started, loving the feel of Arthur's cock sliding inside him as he pushed back, and forward, and back...

Then Arthur found his own rhythm, grip tightening on Alfred's hips, pulling him back, thrusting into him hard and deep, and it was so much better than Alfred's rhythm that Alfred surrendered at once, mewling helplessly, soft broken gasps of sound, almost forgetting to breathe. Arthur stopped, soothing his hand over Alfred's trembling body, back and forth along his spine. "Are you all right? Is it all right?"

"Yes," Alfred said, "please, please—" He rocked back until Arthur started once more. Even when Arthur was slamming into him again, Alfred was still begging, "Please, Arthur, please, please, please"; he didn't know what he was begging for, he just needed, he _needed_. He couldn't stop, didn't stop until Arthur wrapped his hand around Alfred's cock and started fisting him in rhythm with his thrusts. When Alfred quieted from the gorgeousness of the pleasure, caught between Arthur's hand and his cock, he heard what he'd missed before: Arthur's prayer, the counterpoint to his own pleading, a whisper so soft: "Alfred." Just that, over and over.

And it was that, his name, the desire Arthur put into Alfred's name—it was the pureness of that desire that made Alfred come first, shuddering and breathless and overwhelmed. Arthur didn't stop, didn't let go of Alfred or Alfred's cock until he came himself; and then they collapsed, loose-limbed, Arthur still inside Alfred.

Their sweat-slickened bodies shifted against each other as they came to rest, as Arthur softened and slipped out. Arthur said his name again and Alfred heard the quiver. Turning, Alfred caught the brightness of Arthur's eyes before Arthur had to look away, and that was the first time Alfred made Arthur cry.

Alfred wanted to touch Arthur, to tell him it was okay; he wanted to make it okay. But he didn't move, didn't speak. He turned away to give Arthur his privacy—and when he did, Arthur shifted closer, curled around him, head resting in the curve of Alfred's neck and shoulder. With a sigh, he relaxed in Arthur's arms. Arthur passed out after a few breaths, wrapped around Alfred, and Alfred drifted into a deep sleep of his own.

 

That was the first time it happened. No one has ever made Alfred feel the way Arthur does, no one's ever made him come the way Arthur does. Arthur is the only one who's ever fucked Alfred just right, the way he wants it, _needs_ it. All the others have either been afraid of breaking him or have wanted to, tried to. But when Arthur fucks Alfred, it never hurts, it's just bliss. Even that first time, it was so perfect, so fucking perfect... so fucking perfect that Alfred fell in love.

He knows you're not supposed to fall in love from a good fuck. He doesn't think anyone would understand or believe him, but the first time Arthur fucked him, Alfred fell in love. Because Arthur wasn't like any of the others. Arthur wasn't afraid of him, he just wanted him. Arthur wants him whole; Arthur makes him whole. Alfred wishes he could make Arthur whole, too. But now Alfred's worried that he has broken Arthur. Arthur has given Alfred everything Alfred wants, his friendship by day, his body by night. Everything in pieces. Arthur has fragmented himself to make Alfred whole. If only Alfred could do that for Arthur, give him everything he wants and needs, make him whole, too...


End file.
